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'A friend!' Horatio cried, and seemed to start-
'Yea, marry shalt thou, and with all my heart.
'And fetch my cloak; for, though the night be raw,
'I'll see him too-the first I ever saw.'

I knew the man, and knew his nature mild,

And was his plaything often when a child;

But somewhat at that moment pinched him close,
Else he was seldom bitter or morose.

Perhaps his confidence just then betrayed,

His grief might prompt him with the speech he made;
Perhaps 'twas mere good humour gave it birth,
The harmless play of pleasantry and mirth.
Howe'er it was, his language, in my mind,
Bespoke at least a man that knew mankind.

But not to moralize too much, and strain
To prove an evil of which all complain,
(I hate long arguments verbosely spun);
One story more, dear Hill, and I have done.
Once on a time an Emperor, a wise man,
No matter where, in China or Japan,
Decreed that whosoever should offend
Against the well-known duties of a friend,
Convicted once, should ever after wear
But half a coat, and show his bosom bare.
The punishment importing this, no doubt,
That all was naught within, and all found out.
Oh, happy Britain! we have not to fear






Such hard and arbitrary measure here;
Else, could a law like that which I relate,
Once have the sanction of our triple state,
Some few that I have known in days of old,
Would run most dreadful risk of catching cold;
While you, my friend, whatever wind should blow,
Might traverse England safely to and fro,
An honest man, close-buttoned to the chin,
Broad-cloth without, and a warm heart within.



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THE greenhouse is my summer seat;
My shrubs displaced from that retreat
Enjoyed the open air;

Two goldfinches, whose sprightly song
Had been their mutual solace long,

Lived happy prisoners there.

They sang, as blithe as finches sing
That flutter loose on golden wing,

And frolic where they list;
Strangers to liberty, 'tis true,
But that delight they never knew,
And therefore never missed.

But Nature works in every breast,
With force not easily suppressed;

And Dick felt some desires,
That, after many an effort vain,
Instructed him at length to gain
A pass between his wires.

The open windows seemed to invite
The freeman to a farewell flight;

But Tom was still confined;

And Dick, although his way was clear,
Was much too generous and sincere
To leave his friend behind.





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Fandango, ball, and rout!

Blush when I tell you how a bird
A prison with a friend preferred
To Liberty without.



I SHALL not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau

If birds confabulate or no;


'Tis clear that they were always able

To hold discourse, at least in fable;

And e'en the child who knows no better,
Than to interpret by the letter


A story of a cock and bull,

Must have a most uncommon skull.

It chanced then on a winter's day,

But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a design


To forestall sweet St. Valentine,

In many an orchard, copse, and grove,

Assembled on affairs of love,

And with much twitter, and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.


At length a Bullfinch, who could boast

More years and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, opening wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And, silence publicly enjoined,
Delivered briefly thus his mind:

'My friends! be cautious how ye treat
The subject upon which we meet;
I fear we shall have winter yet.'

A Finch whose tongue knew no control,

With golden wing and satin poll,

A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied:



'Methinks the gentleman,' quoth she, 'Opposite in the apple-tree,


By his good will would keep us single,

Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle,
Or (which is likelier to befall)

Till death exterminate us all.

I marry without more ado;


My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?'

Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling,

Turning short round, strutting, and sideling,
Attested, glad, his approbation


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And Destiny, that sometimes bears
An aspect stern on man's affairs,
Not altogether smiled on theirs.
The wind, of late breathed gently forth,
Now shifted east, and east by north;
Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know,
Could shelter them from rain or snow,


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